The Last Beat of My Wings and Your Heart
by TallyMark413
Summary: AU. John was living a peaceful life, that is, until a certain Sherlock Holmes appeared and claimed to be his guardian angel. John struggles to keep his life as normal as it always was, something that proves to be difficult with an angel that is set on solving cases about the sudden rise of demons.


**Hello, everyone! I'm actually really excited to get this idea out there. I've had it for days now and I've finally decided to post it! For those curious, this will be a Johnlock fanfic. However, it will probably be a slow build.. I apologize ahead of time if there are mistakes, so please don't hesitate to let me know if there are! I plan on updating this frequently, but no promises. Life tends to get in the way at times. Reviews are lovely and I'd love to hear what you guys think!**

**I don't own any of the characters. It all belongs to BBC**

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'Sherlock! Are you even listening to me?"

Ignoring his brother, Sherlock continued walking down the brilliantly white hallway. Hands clasped behind his back, wings folded, Sherlock held in the urge to scream. He was beyond bored. Everyday was the same here. Guard the halls, keep the order in check, stay on task; it was infuriating. The same bloody thing, every _bloody_ day. And now his just as infuriating brother refused to leave him alone. Lovely.

Behind him, Mycroft continued to talk. His brown, red tinted wings puffed out in aggravation as he tried to get his brother's attention. "Sherlock! You are being highly immature. Slow down and _listen_."

Sherlock picked up his pace.

He really had no desire to speak with Mycroft or any other angel for that matter. They were all dreadfully boring and dull. His brother's voice droned on behind him and Sherlock held back the urge to cover his ears. Why couldn't Mycroft let him wallow in his boredom in peace?

"You're being reassigned!" Mycroft suddenly blurted out, obviously fed up with his attempts.

Sherlock froze. Reassigned? That was what Mycroft was bugging him about? Angels got reassigned all the time. It was _definitely_ not as big a deal as Mycroft was making it seem. Unless…

Sherlock turned to face Mycroft. To any other angel, Mycroft would look indifferent, albeit a little flustered. But to Sherlock, a master of observation and deduction, his brother spoke volumes. By the slight clench of Mycroft's jaw, stiffer posture than usual, and the way his wings twitched slightly, Sherlock knew this was not an usual reassignment.

The answer quickly flitted into Sherlock's mind and he stated more than asked. "I'm to be a guardian."

Mycroft clasped his hands in front of him.

"Yes."

A silence fell over the brothers. Slight irritation sparked in Sherlock. This was just great; leaving one boring place for another just as bad. Yes, Earth had _slightly_ more variety than the blank halls of heaven, but the humans dulled that variety greatly with their stupidity. And now, Sherlock had to watch over and protect one of them. Which, to the black winged angel, sounded awful.

A part of Sherlock wanted to march right up to the Council and demand them to change his position. The angel pushed that thought aside, however. As if the Council would change their mind because he didn't want to be a guardian.

"You're to leave at sun's rise," Mycroft broke the silence. "They've already assigned you to your charge."

Of course they did. That left him with less than an hour to be at Earth. Not much time for such short notice, Sherlock thought dryly. They probably couldn't wait for him to be gone.

"I should be going then," Sherlock began, "Thanks for telling me, Mycroft. Oh…and do be sure to keep on that diet while I'm gone, brother." Sherlock smirked slightly, turning to head towards the gates. An arm stopped him.

"_Sherlock_. Be careful. More demons have been sighted on Earth and I know you. Please try and keep yourself from seeking trouble. Remember your duty," Mycroft stated. Sherlock inwardly scoffed. There was no need for his brother's worry. He could take care of himself just fine.

At Sherlock's face, Mycroft continued, 'And don't let your charge die."

A scowl brought itself to Sherlock's face and he pulled his arm from his brother's grasp, wings flaring slightly.

"The only reason my charge will die, _Mycroft_, will be because of his own stupidity."


End file.
